Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 86167 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 431(@200wpm)___ 345(@250wpm)___ 287(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86167 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 431(@200wpm)___ 345(@250wpm)___ 287(@300wpm)
“You truly love me?”
“If I didn’t love you,” he said wryly, “I’d be snug in my chamber, wouldn’t I? And not out here in front of everyone, having my favorite coat ruined with tears.”
*
The wedding did not take place that night, but the next day, so a new, appropriately festive nuptial breakfast could be thrown together, and the hidden decorations replaced. August put away his tear-soaked coat and donned his formal one again, this time as the bridegroom. He arrived early to wait at the altar, for he didn’t want her to question for a moment whether he would be there.
I’m present, Elizabeth. I’m ready in spirit if not in soul.
For all of it had happened very quickly. He was doing the right thing, he knew that. But watching her walk down the aisle in her dazzling velvet gown, he was suddenly overcome with nerves. In sickness and in health. Until death do us part.
His father had taken his place at the harpsichord, to play the processional song. August hardly heard it, for all his attention was fixed upon his bride. She looked different than last time, perhaps by intention. Instead of her regal crown of braids, her black locks were undone, falling down her back. No ornate bouquet today, no pearl-studded ribbons. She carried a simple spray of pink cyclamen and winter heather, bound by…ah, there was the pearl ribbon.
Her trembling hands made the flowers shake, though everyone pretended not to notice. If the good wishes of the onlookers were enough to steady nerves, she should be the steadiest bride ever.
He smiled in an attempt to calm her when she finally stood before him. She returned a tremulous grin. Just over her shoulder, he could see the old baron, her doting grandpa, scowling at him. August made it his mission to assure everyone there that, despite the exigent circumstances, he wanted nothing more than to make Elizabeth his wife. It would not erase the humiliation of being left at the altar, but it might make new memories for both her and the guests.
To that end, he uttered his vows with vigorous intent, and gazed steadily at Elizabeth when she repeated hers. He took her hand when the parson told him to, and held it tight, glove against glove. He thought of her bare fingers upon the piano keys in his music room, and then imagined his bare fingers upon…
Ah. He must not let his mind wander to other, more lurid activities right now. He focused on the parson’s words about love, honor, and fidelity, still gripping her hand. A great cheer went up as the ceremony ended, and he walked her back down the aisle.
Well, it was done. She stood beside him out in the sunshine as the guests filed by, full of congratulations. Everything seemed good and bright again. He could tell they felt matters had been “fixed,” and that he was a fine man for doing it. There would still be gossip back in England, in London especially, but they could cope with that.
His friends hugged him and punched him on the shoulder, and Marlow said, “it’s about time, cousin!” Wescott called him brother, though there was also warning in his crooked smile. His parents beamed, and her parents, the vaunted Duke and Duchess of Arlington, were practically reduced to tears as they congratulated the couple.
They left the church together to go to the wedding breakfast in the manor’s great hall, trailing in lines across the frosted lawn. They’d gotten sun today, instead of rain. The flowers in her bouquet weren’t shaking anymore. When he reached for her hand, she switched the flowers to her other hand and gave him an adoring smile, her deep green eyes alight.
Have I done the right thing? he thought. Can I love this girl as she deserves? Can I protect her? Can we build a family and create a legacy together, when she’s as incomprehensible as an ancient rune?
The wedding must be enough for now. The rest they could build over time, when he got over the shock and suddenness of their nuptials. Her fingers tightened around his and he knew he could protect her, at any rate.
She was so sweet. So young.
So innocent, for God’s sake.
Chapter Nine
Nervous
“Ah, what a dreamy Christmas Eve wedding!” As darkness enveloped the old castle, Rosalind crossed Lisburne Manor’s traditional nuptial chamber and hoisted herself up beside Hazel on the raised bed, an imposing, canopied relic from a previous century. “You’re married now, Lisbet, just like us!”
Elizabeth looked down at her wedding gown, smoothing the fine velvet. A fire roared in the grate and winter flowers graced the tops of various chests and bureaus. The bed was high, though narrow, and outfitted with multiple blankets and overfilled white pillows. A narrow bed for newlyweds. Wasn’t that the saying?